Chapter 8
“Since none of you have anything to say, I guess it’s my turn now,” I said.
I went on, “Mr. Sinclair, Matthew, since the two of you clearly can’t stand the sight of me, then let me make this official in front of everyone.
“From this moment on, I have absolutely nothing to do with the Sinclair family. We are done. But one thing I won’t walk away from is my mother’s belongings. They are not going to stay in the hands of the people who hurt her.”
I signaled the bodyguard to bring out the list of my mother’s belongings.
I pointed to the emerald bracelet on Grace’s wrist. “That was a gift from my grandmother to my mother, and now it’s part the inheritance she left to me.”
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Then I pointed to the necklace around Celia’s neck. “That was meant to be my coming–of–age gift. My mother prepared it for me before she died. Shouldn’t that be returned as well! And that one, and that one too.
One by one, I called out every single item they had taken.
All four of them looked furious, their faces as dark as thunderclouds.
“Every item on that list must be returned. I won’t accept even one missing. If not, I’ll press charges against Grace and Celia for misappropriating someone else’s property,” I added.
Celia burst into tears, looking heartbroken.
She clung to Matthew’s arm, crying, “Matthew, I already gave away a bunch of those things. How am I supposed to get them back now?”
Matthew’s face twisted with rage. “Vivian, must you be so deliberately difficult?”
I remained expressionless. “Matthew, how about we make a deal? I still hold ten percent of Sinclair Group’s shares. I’ll trade that for all of my mother’s belongings, including the portion she left to you.”
There was no way I would let Matthew use my mother’s keepsakes to curry favor with Grace and Celia.
I did, my mother would never rest in peace.
That ten percent of Sinclair Group’s stock was something Charles had been coveting for over a decade, and he still hadn’t managed to get it.
So the moment he heard my offer, he didn’t even bother preserving Grace’s dignity.
“Are you serious?” he asked, almost breathless.
I nodded. “But if I find out that even one item is still in Grace or Celia’s possession, I’ll sell my shares straight to the Grant family.”
“Fine. Deal.” Charles jumped at the chance to seal the agreement.
Not only did I get to sign the severance contract that cut ties with them, but I also officially regained the rights to all of my mother’s possessions.
Matthew looked at me, his expression torn. Ten percent of Sinclair Group is worth a fortune. Are you sure this is what you
want?”
“I’m not interested in Sinclair Group’s money. I just don’t want Mom’s legacy being shamelessly defiled by the people who hurt
her.”
I casually pulled out the signed document from Charles and handed it to Matthew. “Your turn. Sign it.”
Matthew stared at me, eyes locked on mine. His tone was firm. “I won’t sign.”
I raised my blood–soaked hands. “What right do you have not to sign?
Chapter 8
“Do you still think you’re qualified to be my brother? Or do you actually want me under the same roof as Celia again, just waiting for another chance to beat her senseless?
I continued. “Matthew, as long as I’m still breathing, I swear I’ll find a way to destroy your precious stepmother and your precious little sister.”
Matthew’s face turned an ugly shade of gray.
In the end, he picked up the pen and signed his name.
From that
moment on, I had nothing more to do with the Sinclair family–or with Matthew.
Not even in death would I allow him to shed tears at my grave.
“Oh, right,” I said, glancing at the crowd. “It’s Celia’s birthday today, isn’t it? You all insisted I owe her a gift and an apology. Well, I’ve brought both.”
With that, I pulled out the item I’d retrieved from the safety deposit box earlier.
The big screen lit up, and a short video started playing.
The second Charles and Grace saw who was in the footage, they completely lost it.
I stepped forward and spoke clearly, “This was filmed while my mother was going through chemotherapy, teetering between life and death. Someone made sure to send her a video like this every single day just to provoke her so that she wouldn’t live too long.
The footage wasn’t all. WhatsApp conversations appeared next, followed by a flood of disgusting photos and video clips- every single one taken and sent by Grace herself.
“Enjoy the show,” I said.
The guests sat in stunned silence, absolutely horrified.
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